


Shit lets be santa

by poolstrider



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Candy Canes, Christmas, Earth C (Homestuck), Eventual Smut, M/M, Smut, i guess, sexy Christmas?, talking about their problems like adults
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poolstrider/pseuds/poolstrider
Summary: Something something hope aspect something something dirkjake
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 5





	1. eggnoggin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, my reading of the Epilogues was that Dirk would occasionally fly in through the window uninvited and boss Jake around. I tried to write that, but I guess this happened instead.

Jake closed his eyes and leaned back into the squeaky pleather of a particularly distasteful armchair. Thoroughly drunk, he clung to the slick arms of the chair as he felt the room rocking and rolling around him. Colors danced and swam in the dark of his tightly clenched eyes. He felt his stomach sloshing vaguely, heavy with creamy eggnog and acrid brown spirits. 

Jake English prided himself on his ability to indulge, gladly handing over the reins, so to speak, to any of his body's fleeting urges as they come and go. On this particular evening, gorged on eggnog and something else (scotch? whiskey?), Jake had his body do what it did best: Forget. 

Gone were the sickening panicky thoughts that wracked him with guilt. Gone were the ghosts of his past, the lingering phantom weight of a comforting hand on his own. 

Most of all, Jake English forgot how utterly unpleasant it felt to be alone. 

He rubbed his eyes. Forcing himself to stay awake was the biggest challenge when it came to one of these benders. Alcohol is a depressant after all, or so someone or other had told him at some time or other. The second he succumbed to sleep, the garbage he’d funneled into his god-body would begin to take its toll, and no number of hearty jogs or brisk morning-after calisthenics ever seemed to dull the throbbing complaints of his body after a night like this. 

As long as he could keep this up, feeding the floating, fuzzy numbness with swigs of burning whiskey (?) and cloying eggnog chaser, he could stave off the inevitable hangover and its accompanying shame. 

Outside of his window, the wind whipped along, tugging at bare branches and whirling tufty bits of snow. He watched the drifting, softly dancing flurries with some vestigial sense of wonder at the miracle that was the changing of the seasons. Despite his best efforts, he remembered their first winter on this new planet. Jane eagerly making arrangements for yuletide festivities, Karkat cursing the sudden appearance of “fluffy bullshit” falling from the sky, Rose enlisting Roxy as she set to knitting heaps of cozy accessories. 

Jake went on to remember, against his better judgement, tromping through piles of crisp snow, watching puffs of breath in frozen air, a cold fingertip tracing the path of a fallen snowflake down, over the crease where his brow furrowed, down the bridge of his nose. Tracing along the curve of his lips. 

Bare red knees numb in the snow. A cold hand on the back of his neck. 

Jake’s eyelids, which had begun to fall on their own accord, snapped back open as Jake briefly regained the reins of his own consciousness. He was forgetting to forget about what he was supposed to forget about. 

He watched the snow some more. 

As a boy he’d tried his darndest to get into the Christmas spirit, but something about it always felt off. He’d studied the backlogs of classic Earth Christmas movies. For all his paltry efforts while alone on the island, the one thing he felt his Christmases lacked was the spark of magic that made holly jolly and reindeer fly and whatnot. 

Some part of him, however small it became over the years, had always held out for a nod from that jolly old elf, the chipper gentleman in red himself, the big man. Santa Claus. 

Jake learned over the course of a frustrating years long trial and error process, which included plenty of analysis of Christmas movies, that Santa must have been one of those cool customers who you couldn’t come right out and ask too much of.  
After all, the non-believers are the ones in the movies who get thrown screaming into the back of the sleigh for some madcap mission of holiday enlightenment. 

Young Jake had waited as patiently as he could for that benevolent old fat man to touch down on the island and ho-ho-ho the boy off onto some jolly adventure to learn the true meaning of Christmas and all that through a series of prat falls, elaborate chase sequences, and spontaneous song-and-dance numbers. The jolly old elf, much to young Jake’s chagrin, always seemed had more deserving little scamps on his list and never paid a visit to the English residence, not even to drop so much as a candy cane down the chimney.  
After many a tearful morning dismounting empty stockings and discarding trees limp with decorative hangings, young Jake had reluctantly played the last card in his Christmas movie playbook: He grew up, casting off childish notions of red noses and sleigh rides. 

He was more of a Scrooge McDuck now, he thought to himself as he choked down another mouthful of the brown stuff, forgetting to forget how truly alone he felt. 

And yet… Jake turned his head lazily, tipping it in the direction of a hallway lined with garish statuettes. He heard something. Something faint. Something like music. Carolers, maybe? It wouldn’t have been the first time Jane had enlisted citizens of Earth C to reenact old Earth customs. 

Jake eased himself out of his chair and started towards the hall door. If these poor citizens had braved this blizzard on his behalf, it would be impolite not to acknowledge their efforts. 

He patted his pockets for loose change or a glossy two inch by four inch headshot to autograph. 

His intoxication catching up to him, Jake blinked as he stepped out into the cavernous living room. The room, if it could be called that, was unusually warm. Something was burning. Something… pleasant. He could hear the music more clearly now, the throaty melodic crooning of an ancient Earth songstress. The sound had a crackle to it, as if it was coming from an old record player. 

Jake noticed for the first time a frondy verdant monolith towering in the center of the room, needles just brushing the crystal hangy-thingies of his third favorite chandelier. Candles flickered from nearly every planar surface. 

Jake slumped against the wall, struck dumb and quite nearly gasping. The scent of pine and sweet candles was overpowering. He couldn’t think. Besides, he was still so drunk that he could hardly stand. 

He dumbly descended the staircase, spotting a glimpse of red in his periphery. He turned to face it, getting a better look.

A red hat, undeniably festive, sat atop a crouching figure, telltale white puffball bobbing as they stoked the fire. 

“Santa?” Jake called out tentatively, flushed with embarrassment, alcohol and dare I say, hope.


	2. santa baby (chopped n screwed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of whatever this is, because literally no one asked for it. A little late for Christmas, but happy dirkjake week or whatever

Jake paused, waiting for an answer, and in that instant, the figure was gone. His stomach began to sink as childlike wonder gave way to something else entirely. Something familiar, that sent his pulse racing, something complicated. Guilt, maybe? Or just anticipation? Whatever it was, it kept him on his toes.

The mysterious benefactor was no rotund elf. That flash of angular shoulder, that bit of blonde poking out from beneath the fur trim of the hat. Besides, there was only one person he knew could move quite that fast. 

But why here? Jake paced down the stairs, coming to terms with the situation. He stopped at the crackling fireplace, held his hands up to feel its warmth. They trembled ever so slightly, betraying his nerves. Why now? That first snowfall felt like a lifetime ago. It had snowed every year after that, but it was never quite the same. Not that Jake had changed all that much. It was everything else that was just… different. 

He felt something crunch beneath the toe of his boot. He looked down. A candy cane splintered, red and white shards scattered across the hardwood. He spied another candy cane a few feet away. His ears once again registered music. There was something off about this classic holiday favorite, which seemed to be playing on a loop. It almost sounded like… lo-fi anime beats, to chill and relax to. Jake felt himself force out a deep breath, but he couldn’t seem to shake the tension creeping into his shoulders. He appreciated the effort, whatever this was, but he couldn’t help that he was so damned apprehensive. He was painfully aware of how many times he’d been jerked around, how many of these impromptu visits, grown few and far between over the years, ended in a heartache more potent than any hangover. 

He missed the way things used to be. No grand gestures, no month long silences, no televised spectacle. Just a reliable old chum. A partner in crime. A boyfriend. 

Whatever this was, it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be, not after all that had happened. 

Jake trained his eyes on the next candy cane, another one a few feet ahead of that. With some reluctance, Jake began to follow the sugary trail. He knew he couldn’t not follow it. Adventurous spirit and all that. He just tried not to let his expectations get out of hand.

Low expectations aside, he couldn’t help but marvel at the frondy behemoth in the center of the room. How’d that even get in here? The old boy had certainly outdone himself this time. 

Jake continued down the path set out in candy canes. He was nothing if not an ardent appreciator of scavenger hunts. Apprehension, however, dulled his usual enthusiasm. While he’d learned over the years that he had a relatively high threshold for pain, he generally preferred not to be hurt. 

He hated how jaded he’d become.

The music played on endlessly, monotonous and vibey. Strangely seductive. The sugary trail looped through the mansion and seemed to be leading back to the master bedroom. 

Jake swallowed hard, his heart seemingly having leapt up into his throat. As he approached the last candy cane, pulse rabitting, he paused briefly to smooth his hair back with a clammy palm. 

Some sight he’d be, stumbling and bleary with drink, stinking of saccharine eggnog and… cholesterol. He willed his breath to even as he reached for the ornate door handle.

At this proximity, the music was so loud he could feel the beat thrumming through his chest. He breathed in sharply and pulled the door open. He released the breath, mildly surprised that he wasn’t face to face with a pair of pointy anime shades.

Dirk straightened up where he had been leaning against the wall opposite, ornate goblet held loosely in a gloved hand. Jake willed his glasses not to fog, warmth creeping through his face as he took in the sight before him. 

His eyes traveled from the festive red hat, puffball hanging over the rim of the familiar shades, down past pale arms crossed over a bare chest, flushed to a pleasant shade of pink, framed by black suspenders. Tight black shorts, not quite as short as Jake’s preferred cut, but short enough to reveal the pale expanse of long, muscular legs. Dirk almost looked vulnerable like this. 

They stood there, silently appraising one another, for what felt like a stupidly long couple of minutes, feeling enveloped by the ridiculous music in the comfortably warm room. Dirk, naturally, was the one to break the silence. 

“I didn’t know when you were coming so I broke into the hard stuff.” Jake’s eyes moved to the half-empty bottle of peppermint Schnapps on the dresser. Dirk wasn’t usually one to help himself to Jake’s closet booze. In fact, Jake wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Dirk drink before. Or, drunk, rather. There was a noticeable difference in the way he held himself. Not excessively noticeable, of course. Dirk was always a paragon of self control. But there was a looseness in his usually rigid posturing. “You just gonna stand there or what.”

Jake stood dumbly in the doorway, still not quite sure what this was about. Dirk answered one question, wordlessly closing the space between them. Jake’s pulse was positively thundering. Dirk was close enough that he could smell peppermint on his lips. A gloved palm met his chin, tilting it up until he found himself staring at the ceiling. A clump of leaves, dotted with little red berries, hung in the air above them. Recognition dawned on Jake and he surged forward, catching Dirk’s peppermint lips in his own, kissing him like it was the last chance he’d get. For all he knew, it was.

Dirk responded with uncharacteristic abandon, sighing into the kiss, parting his lips and licking into Jake’s mouth hungrily. Jake felt a gloved palm on the back of his neck pressing him forward, fingers creeping up into his hair. Jake tasted peppermint on his tongue as it slid against Dirk’s, melting into the sensation with a groan. He wrapped his arms around Dirk’s bare back, pulling him closer until he could feel every breath, every heartbeat pressed against his own. 

A fuzzy, faint voice in the back of his head urged him not to get his hopes up, but he was in way over his head tonight. This was too good to be true, but it was oh, so good. Something was different this time, he told himself. In fact, he was almost certain as Dirk let out a moan into his mouth, sliding his hand up to grab a fistful of hair at the back of Jake’s head. Something had gotten into the old boy, and it wasn’t just the Christmas spirit. 

Jake nearly jumped when Dirk pressed their hips together, grinding up into Jake’s olive green khakis with a noticeably spirited bulge. Jake groaned and bit down, catching Dirk’s lower lip between his teeth, sliding his tongue to soothe the sting. Dirk panted as Jake let a hand wander south, down the hot skin at the small of his back, resting against the seat of his tight shorts, pulling him up into another dirty grind. 

The hot press of skin and slide of tongues was intoxicating, but Jake couldn’t help but think to look this gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. Dirk wasn’t normally so reciprocative, so open. Normally he’d have pulled away by now, straightened up, and carried on orchestrating the meticulously impersonal proceedings as he’d surely choreographed them in his head beforehand. At least, that was what Jake had come to expect. This… this had to be something else.

Hating himself for it, Jake pulled back, detangling his mouth from Dirk’s. Dirk chased it with his own for a moment before settling on mouthing at Jake’s appreciative jaw, pressing a wet kiss into Jake’s five o’clock shadow, groaning as he pressed his hips up against Jake’s growing bulge. Jake willed himself not to lose his train of thought.

“Dirk?” Jake tried, voice feeling small and somewhat broken. 

Dirk panted hotly against the skin of his neck, pressing another sucking kiss as he nuzzled into the spot. Jake hooked a thumb into the back of Dirk’s suspenders, finding the spot where they crossed at the small of his back, and gave it a firm tug, leading Dirk’s hips back from where they had been pressing insistently against his own crotch. 

Dirk groaned at the loss and looked up from his spot at Jake’s neck, seeking out his eyes from beneath his shades. The white puffball bobbed against Jake’s cheek. 

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Jake groaned. “Isn’t there something you’d like to, I don’t know, explain?” He cocked an eyebrow and caught one of Dirk’s suspenders, pulling it forward and watching it snap against Dirk’s heaving chest. Dirk winced and pressed back into Jake’s neck. Jake found himself supporting Dirk’s weight, as the other man leaned into him.

“Yeah,” Dirk finally breathed, voice warm against Jake’s skin. “There was something. There was a lot, really.” His hand carded through Jake’s hair, snapping Jake out of anxious spirally thoughts which were beginning to flood his mind. “I always have something to say, don’t I. Like some monotonous goddamn train of angst, overanalyzing and overexplaining everything like some kind of sadist asshole with a dead horse fetish,” Dirk murmured thoughtfully. He trailed his other hand up Jake’s side as he spoke, bringing it to rest against his cheek, thumb stroking at the skin there lazily, almost lovingly. Jake was starting to regret setting Dirk off on one of his introspective spirals as he felt his arousal starting to give way to something more complicated. 

“Getting pretty tired of living like a fuckin russian nesting doll of pretense. Hiding my pathetic human urges deep inside like a little wooden goddamn baby.” Jake snorted, puffing a small breath into Dirk’s temple. “And here you are, ready and willing to take whatever load of bullshit I feel the need to shove down your throat.” Jake felt himself blush at the indelicate wording. Dirk continued, burying his face against Jake’s shoulder. “And I’m the asshole who leaves your sweet ass hanging until… until I…” Dirk falters. 

Jake stilled against him, heart racing. Dirk has never sounded so… uncertain isn’t the word. And none of this explained the--

“I… I stay away no matter how unbelievably shitty it feels… because I know you don’t… deserve to be… to be my fucking punching bag.” His hand fell from Jake’s face, clutching instead at the fabric of his shirt. “Shit, I’m… I just… I just wanted to do one goddamn nice thing for you for once without overthinking it and making myself feel like a piece of shit, but I went too far and now it’s not even… ironic. And the shitty closet booze,” he groaned, then took a deep breath. “I realize how fucked up this looks but the snow reminds me of you, it always does, and I know you never got to have a real Christmas,” his words seemed to be tripping over themselves in their hurry to get out. 

Jake felt himself smiling widely into the plush red hat. He brought a hand up to his chest to meet Dirk’s, wrapping his relaxed palm around the tightly clenched fist. 

“I just…” Dirk went on, voice wavering. “I was waiting in here like a goddamn Chippendale asshole and I saw you and for once, I wanted to feel what it was like not to be totally in control.” Jake felt the hand trembling under his own and pulled Dirk closer with the arm wrapped around his waist. Dirk raised his head, eyes cautiously searching out Jake’s from behind the shades. Jake tilted his head forward, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re a Christmas goddamn miracle,” Dirk breathed.

“No, you are,” Jake murmured in response, before crashing their lips together in a kiss which started out tender and quickly moved into unbridled passion territory. He wanted to make Dirk know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, how much this, whatever it was, meant to him. How much he loved having this guarded, manipulative, emotionally repressed body pressed up against his, mouths moving together, falling into the familiar rhythm they’d practiced for so many years. 

Jake, seized by something like boldness, hoisted Dirk up, bridal style, and deposited him on the ridiculous four-poster bed. There Dirk sprawled out, head thrown to one side, Santa hat askew. His tightly drawn chest heaved, muscles taught under flushed pink skin, pale thighs invitingly spread. Jake climbed onto the bed, settling between them and leaning into Dirk’s neck, sucking kisses along his throat, hands roaming the warm expanse of his chest, trailing up his sides, brushing at the hem of his shorts on the way down. Dirk slid his hands up under Jake’s shirt, clutching at his back. Jake reached back for a moment to quickly tug the shirt up over his head, tossing it on to the floor before returning to his ministrations. Dirk let out a deep sigh as he pulled him in closer, running his hands along Jake’s broad, bare back.

“Not to sound overly forward,” Jake breathed into the crook of Dirk’s neck. “But you’re the best present I could have asked for.”

With this, he brought a hand down, feeling Dirk’s member through the fabric of his tight shorts, eliciting a gasp at the contact. Working at the buttons with both hands, mouth still latched to the tender skin of Dirk’s throat, Jake unfastened the shorts, pleasantly surprised to find that he had chosen to go commando. As Jake took Dirk into his hand, he took a moment to fumble at his own belt with the other, zipping down his fly and giving his own erection some breathing room before placing his full attention on the man spread under him. 

Jake gripped Dirk’s bare cock, stroking along the length of it, pondering the fact that he knew this particular part of his best friend like… well, like the back of his hand. He swiped his thumb across the head, spreading the liquid that had pooled there before giving a couple of lazy tugs. Dirk’s breath hitched. The physical part of it all, they’d never had much of a problem with. Jake let go, leaning up to press a kiss at the corner of Dirk’s parted mouth before trailing down, sucking and nibbling at bits of skin down Dirk’s chest. No, they’d never had any problems in the bedroom department, but it was never quite like this either. Dirk had never been so responsive. So open. Dirk let out a moan as Jake swirled his tongue around a nipple, toying at the other one with his fingers. Dirk panted as his head trailed lower, kissing down his abdomen, tongue laving over a sharp hip bone. He finally settled one hand at the base of Dirk’s cock, wrapping around it, before licking a stripe up the underside, stopping at the tip to roll his tongue around the head.

“Fuck man I got the best goddamn piece of ass on the planet right here,” Dirk began to babble, trailing off into a groan as Jake wrapped his lips around his cock and sank down, taking it into his warm, wet mouth. 

Dirk propped himself up on one elbow, reaching down to sink a hand into Jake’s hair, tugging at it appreciatively. Jake hollowed his cheeks and sucked purposefully, tongue laving at the underside as he bobbed up and down. One hand gripped the flesh of Dirk’s inner thighs before trailing down to play with his balls. Dirk seemed to be falling apart under the attention, panting and moaning out soft sounds that warmed Jake’s heart to hear. Jake felt the hand in his hair tighten as the chorus of moans grew more urgent. Jake wrapped his lips around the sensitive head, tongue swirling, pumping at the rest with a tight fist. Dirk groaned.

“I fucking love-” Dirk began. Jake faltered, tongue lolling against the underside. It wouldn’t be the first time Dirk’s dropped the L-word during one of these impromptu booty-calls. Sure, it’s been a while, but… Jake pulled off of Dirk’s cock, suddenly apprehensive. Had nothing changed? Was this another meaningless hook-up? The kind that Dirk always seemed to forget the next day, or at least pretend to forget? The kind he always seemed to want to punish Jake for weeks after, with radio silence and merciless strifes, the only evidence that Jake hadn’t dreamt the whole thing? 

He looked up at Dirk, watching for a sign, but Dirk lay still, flat back against the tacky bedspread, chest rising and falling. He raised a hand to pull off his shades, casting them to the side before sitting up. Jake felt a rush of adrenaline as he took in Dirk’s unusually expressive face, struggling to read it. Dirk’s eyes glinted, trained on Jake’s, brow furrowed with concentration.

“I fucking love you.” His voice was soft, but the words were firm. “I’m sorry I’m too much of a piece of shit to ever make good on it.” He glanced away at this, as if attempting to retreat into himself, but there was nowhere to hide. 

Jake’s wide eyes bore into him, taking in the words for a moment. Then he surged up and kissed him hard and sloppy, with everything he had. Dirk keened against him as he resumed stroking his still-surprisingly-hard cock in earnest. He panted into his mouth and moaned as Jake sucked on his tongue, bringing up a hand to toy with his nipples. Dirk held onto Jake tightly, clutching at his shoulder with one arm while the other still tugged at his hair.

Jake felt him begin to squirm, breathing erratic, and picked up the pace, coaxing the impending orgasm out of the writhing blond in his arms, kissing him through it with teeth and a slide of tongue as he let out a shuddering groan into his mouth, cock painting ropes into the space between their chests. 

Dirk let his arms flop out to lay on either side of his body as he breathed in and out slowly. Jake moved to kiss at the side of Dirk’s face as he tugged him through the last of his orgasm.

Jake sat up eventually, wiped his hand on his shorts, then leaned back in, pressing his chest against Dirk’s and his face in close, finding one of his hands on the bedspread and lacing their fingers together. 

“You’d better not change your mind again, because I love you, too.”


End file.
